Lookin' For a Good Time
by LongLiveLaura
Summary: I believe this is what's known as a "Song Fic," the dialogue being lyrics from a song of the same name by Lady Antebellum. A short little ficlet leading up to Laura and Bill's time on the sandbags on NC. Give it a try and tell me what you think ;o


Laura and Bill had come together and parted several times over the course of the day - largely due to the fact that the admiral's presence was required at official Founders' Day functions and the former president's was not. The two had shared drinks - and the odd joint - between Bill's appearances at Baltar's various speeches and ceremonies. Laura had refused all invitations to join him, choosing instead to wait at a prearranged location for Bill to return from reluctant duty.

When at last the new president's self-serving gatherings had come to an end, Bill determinedly made his way to the ad hoc bar which had been set up near the bandstand. He peered through the quickly falling darkness and spotted Laura across the growing crush of revelers. Boisterous cheers and sloppy salutes went up as he waded through the crowd of _Galactica_ personnel and civilians alike making the most of their first New Caprican holiday.

"Hey - what ya drinkin'?" Bill asked over Laura's shoulder, moved carefully in his slightly inebriated state to sit on the empty stool beside her at the makeshift bar.

Once he'd steadied himself on his precarious perch, he turned towards her, stared openly - a pleasure he seldom allowed himself - when she greeted him with a slow, warm smile. The alcohol she'd consumed in his absence cast a rosy blush on her fair complexion, sparked a luminescence in her green eyes, affected a looseness in her limbs that softened her patrician posture. Her hair shone a darker red in the low light of stringed bulbs, framed her fair face in long, lax curls.

"You're beautiful, Laura - 'bout near perfect," he blurted without filter, looked down at his clasped hands atop the rough plywood surface of the bar when Laura's grin widened in surprise at his unusual candor. "But I bet somebody's already told you that," Bill chuckled after a moment, thinking back to the watered-down compliment he'd paid her earlier in the day regarding the color of her outfit.

Laura slipped her arm around Bill's broad back, leaned over until she was pressed tightly against his side, her full breast resting against his upper arm. She dropped her free hand from her glass and squeezed his thigh, spoke hotly in his ear.

"Name your poison."

Bill's head snapped up at her seductive tone and he smiled at her playful expression as she raised her eyebrows in mock innocence, tipped her own head in the direction of the bartender. Knowing as he did that his choice in beverages was limited to the whiskey they'd been drinking all day, Bill realized there was mischief behind her words. He straightened, signaled for a drink with the crook of a finger then wrapped his hand around Laura's knee, caught and held her lively gaze.

"Name your _passion_," he rumbled, his touch boldly sliding higher on her leg as the barkeep placed a full glass in front of him. After a moment's hesitation, Bill withdrew his hand from Laura's lap, chuckled at the disappointment she failed to prevent from flashing in her eyes as he reached for his drink. Shrugging with feigned nonchalance, he said "Cuz a guy like me just couldn't help but ask," then threw back his head and drained the unrefined scotch. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, briefly turned a smug look on Laura before tacitly requesting another round.

In the time it took for their refills to arrive, Laura recovered her equilibrium, nodded and smiled in appreciation of Bill's skilled game. She raised her glass, touched it to his when he toasted the lovely night and 'lovelier company.'

"Keep talkin' to me, Bill - I'm hangin' on your every word," she said between swallows, indicated her glass with a roll of her eyes. "Keep those drinks comin' ..." she drawled, sagged against him and whispered coyly, " ... maybe we'll both get what we deserve."

She pushed off him, righted herself on the barstool and expectantly met Bill's incredulous blue stare. Laura craned her neck to look up at his earnest face when he slowly got to his feet, put a hesitant hand to her back, stood over her and asked what she had in mind.

She paused, seemingly considering her words before she spoke.

"How 'bout we make a promise, Bill - to not promise anything more than one night," she said as quietly as she could do and still be heard over the din of the raucous environment.

"Complicated situations - " he began, but Laura pointedly cut him off.

" - only get worse in the morning light."

If the sudden stiffness of her spine and the anxiety leeching into her features was indicative of trepidation, Bill knew he had to act decisively. Though he considered the offer far from ideal, he'd take what she was able to give - and hope to parlay what she was making clear to be a one night stand into something more. He put his hands out palm up, lifted his shoulders and cocked his head to the side.

"Hey," he grinned with false ease, "I'm just lookin' for a good time."

On Bill's apparent acquiescence to her terms, Laura visibly relaxed with a long exhalation of breath. When she again favored him with a flirtatious smile, he tugged her to her feet and guided her onto the dance floor. Amidst a torrent of teasing catcalls and piercing wolf-whistles, the former president walked into the admiral's arms and the two ignored the friendly taunts and began dancing. They talked, laughed and flirted shamelessly as they moved ever closer together at the music's insistence. When Laura asked about how he and the military were getting along with Baltar's new government, Bill shook his head, told her that no shop talk would be permitted in their embrace.

"I've put in a long hard week doing this nine to five, Laura," he said, rested his chin atop her head and sighed contentedly. "And you're just the girl to get that off my mind."

Happy to oblige him, Laura nuzzled into the crook between Bill's neck and shoulder, ran the fingers of one hand through the hair at his collar. She obediently followed his gentle lead, the sway of her hips becoming progressively more provocative as she felt him harden in response to the movement. Rather than shrinking from the contact, Bill indulged his desire, angled his pelvis to increase the pressure on his obvious erection. Laura acknowledged his arousal with a resonant hum and lingering kiss to his jaw, a languid rolling of her body against his.

"You shouldn't have worn that dress - you shouldn't dance like that," he growled and she chuckled, lifted her face to his. "You've got this ..._ heart _of mine in overdrive."

She quipped about the size and fortuitous placement of his "heart," pressed her cheek to his as he spun them in a graceful circle and expounded on the many virtues of the muscled organ in question.

"I sure love this conversation," Laura sighed, surveyed the crowd around them with a newly critical eye. "The band is good -" she said half-heartedly.

"The music's loud," Bill interrupted, pulled her to a stop and fixed her with a penetrating glare.

"Would you get the wrong impression," she started nervously, fingering the buttons on his tunic, "if ... I dragged you outta here right now?"

"Aw, yeah," he answered immediately, grinned widely and gave her a theatrical wink.

Awash in relief at the levity of his enthusiastic reply, Laura grabbed Bill's hand and hastily led him through the throng of partygoers, hurried into the night beyond the spill of light and celebratory noise.

When they reached her tent, Bill stopped short of the entrance and, on a whim, asked Laura to lay with him under the starlit sky. She commented on his sense of romance and ducked between the gaping canvas flaps to get a blanket. Bill unfurled the soft cotton with a snap of his wrists and laid it atop the sand before lowering himself to the ground and extending a hand to draw Laura to the sandbags beside him.

The lay on their backs in silence, gazing up at the pinpricks of light overhead, each privately gauging the other's willingness to further things along.

Laura shifted to her side, returned Bill's shy smile when he turned at her movement. Though she knew he wanted more of her than she was capable of giving, she knew, too, that he'd put on a brave face and give her what _she_ needed. She lightly drew the tips of her fingers over his face, cradled his chin in her hand.

"Go ahead and lie to me and pull me close," she soothed, granting him permission to act on his feelings while reminding him that she needed him to keep up the casual charade.

Intuiting the turmoil beneath her practiced facade, Bill graciously gave her the same clemency.

"Tell me that you love me, even if you don't," he whispered, placed a hand at the back of Laura's head and pressed his mouth to hers in a heated kiss.

Laura whimpered, parted her lips and accepted Bill's tongue into her mouth as he rolled her onto her back and slipped a hand under the hem of her camisole. He groaned on contact with the cool skin of her belly, inched his way up and ground his erection against her hip when he pulled down the cups of her bra and kneaded her breasts. Laura spread her legs and frantically nudged him into the space between them, inhaled sharply when he dipped his head and sucked a rigid nipple into his mouth.

After several frenzied minutes of open mouthed kisses and increasingly intimate touches, Bill put his weight on one arm, hovered above Laura and expeditiously unfastened his belt and trousers. Laura hitched up her skirt and, unwilling to waste precious time in removing her underwear, eagerly pulled aside the cotton crotch of her panties. Bill stroked himself and settled into position, growled when he pressed the swollen tip of his erection to the hot, wet opening at her center. As he made to move forward and thrust inside her, Laura pushed both hands against his chest, stilled him.

Breathing raggedly, she engaged his eyes.

"The rule is," she panted, "don't you ever even talk about forever."

Bill nodded, twisted his hips and entered her, smiled and kissed her neck when her back arched off the ground, her eyes closed and her head fell back.

"But you never say never in life, Laura," he rasped in her ear, bit down on the fleshly lobe and rocked steadily into her.

Her eyes fluttered open and quickly filled with moisture in exquisite contrast to the laughter bubbling from her throat.

"Hey," she choked out, reached up and held his face in her hands. "I'm just lookin' for a good time," she whispered, cracked a crooked smile. The depth of emotion with which she spoke belied her flippancy in parroting his earlier words.


End file.
